Carver barely hid in a snort. His large family could be exasperating, but he would do anything for them. “I’m grateful my life can provide such entertainment for the family,” he said drolly.
“You’ve always been entertaining, Carve.” Cregon lifted his glass and took another sip of wine—and grimaced.
Carver chuckled while his father glanced around for a place to put the offending drink, but the servants were busy making final adjustments to the table settings. No one wanted to be the reason the wedding feast didn’t run smoothly. Not with the emperor reigning over it.
Cregon finally sighed in defeat and simply lowered his glass. “I’m not sure your pairing with Amryn Lukis was a good idea. Ferradin has many personal grievances against the empire—Westmont, specifically.”
Which was exactly why Carver had insisted the emperor match him with whoever the king of Ferradin chose to send. The kingdom’s troubled history with the empire made them a prime suspect for dissention.
They knew the Rising had planted rebels in Esperance; they just didn’t knowwho. Identifying their enemies was Carver’s first priority. Although, since his best friend had also insisted on coming to Esperance for a year, protecting Argent had also moved to the top of Carver’s list.
The prince stood with his new wife, Jayveh. They were grinning as they held hands and talked with the emperor. They were the only newly married couple still standing beside each other, and Carver couldn’t remember ever seeing Argent look so happy.
“If anyone needs your worry,” he said to his father, “it’s Argent.”
“He loves her,” Cregon said.
That was the problem; Argent wouldn’t see a threat in Jayveh. Meanwhile, Carver saw a threat in everything and everyone—especially her.
“I know you’ll keep an eye on him,” his father said. “Just make sure you guard your back as well.”
Carver tipped his head in acknowledgement, but his attention was once again drawn to Amryn. But instead of meeting her green-eyed gaze again, he intercepted a glare from her uncle.
Lord Rix Varden, chief advisor and best friend to King Torin Halvin of Ferradin. Definitely a man with grievances against the empire. The man’s face tightened as he studied Carver. There was a warning there, along with unmistakable disapproval.
Lifting his wineglass in a silent salute, Carver flashed the man a grin.
Rix’s thick eyebrows slammed down.
His father sighed. “You shouldn’t provoke him.”
Carver lifted one shoulder. “Maybe he’ll snap and betray himself as a rebel. That would make things easier.”
Cregon was silent for a short moment. Then, “I know how he feels.”
Surprised by his suddenly subdued tone, Carver shot his father a look.
The older man shook his head slowly. “It’s not easy, letting you come here. Watching you marry a stranger. A potentially dangerous stranger, at that.” He let out a slow sigh. “Your mother and I only ever wanted our children to marry for love. As we did.”
“Life rarely turns out how we wish.” Carver thought he’d kept his tone light, but he regretted saying anything as his father eyed him with cautious concern.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” his father asked.
Carver’s fingers tightened around the stem of his glass. “I’m fine.”
It looked like Cregon might press, but a call for everyone to begin taking their seats interrupted him. Carver seized the excuse, bidding a quick farewell to his father so he could escort Amryn to the head table, where the newlyweds were to sit with the emperor.
Crossing the floor with long, purposeful strides, he soon stood before Amryn and her uncle.
Rix’s look was withering, but Carver tried to ignore that. It was time to adopt his role: charm his wife into revealing her secrets. Failing that, he would have to resort to other means to determine her allegiance.
He hiked his lips into a wide smile and addressed Amryn directly for the first time. “It’s unfortunate we didn’t have an opportunity to meet before the ceremony. I’m Carver Vincetti.” He stuck out a hand, but Amryn didn’t take it—or the subtle invitation to join him in disparaging the emperor and his choice of keeping the arranged pairings secret until right before the ceremonies. It was probably a weak test of her allegiance to the empire anyway, but maybe it would pave the way for a future conversation in which she’d let her guard down.
For now, she simply gazed at him steadily with those unsettling, fathomless eyes. Finally, her pink lips moved. “I know who you are.”
Her voice was lower than he expected; certainly not as airy and insubstantial as her appearance. Standing this close to her again, he wondered if she presented herself this way on purpose. The elegant gown that washed out her already pale skin, the wide neck that revealed fragile collarbones—even the way her hair was piled on her head, leaving her neck bare. Was it all an effort to look slight and delicate, so her deadly strike could be all the more unexpected?
He let his offered hand fall, then flashed her a smile. “Well, you have me at a disadvantage. But I look forward to getting to know you, Amryn.”